


Just Another Day

by Tallywagger



Category: Metalocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:32:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7960804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallywagger/pseuds/Tallywagger





	Just Another Day

Another day come, another day gone.

 

Pickles attempted to bond with his mother, offering to take her out and pay for everything, only to be coldly rejected every single time. She wanted nothing to do with him, and he wanted nothing to do with her, but as much as he hated it, he subconsciously wanted her to like him. Even if it were a little bit. It almost tore him down, but the shrill guitar riff from his phone allowed him to recuperate.

 

Call from Murderface.

 

His finger hovered above answer, but his stomach began to creep up his esophagus.

 

Ignore.

 

Quickly dropping the phone, Pickles ran to his nightstand and pulled out a prescription bottle filled with rounded small orange pills and swallowed one. He checked his phone again. Great, a voicemail from the worlds most brutal looking bass player. Did Murderface remember? It wasn't like Dethklok to acknowledge each others personal events so openly, but Pickles desperately wanted to hear that someone cared. All too excitedly, he listened to the voicemail.

 

Loud shuffling sounds and wind came from the speakers. “HEY ASCH-HOLE,” why did he sound like he was out of breath? “How about instead of ignoring me, you RETURN MY FUCKING CIVIL WAR DVD. I **KNOW** YOU'RE NOT WATCHING IT.” Click.

 

Pickles squeezed his head with his hands, trying to massage the ache of his balding head. That was not what he wanted to hear. He checked the time to find it was finally 11:25PM. It's a good thing this day was almost over. Everything will be back to normal in 35 minutes. After taking another shot of vodka, he wrapped himself back in to his maroon cocoon and fell back asleep.

 

He celebrated his birthday the same as every other year; drunk, drugged, and alone.

 


End file.
